sunday lessons

last night, or, rather,

early this morning,
i time warped to 2002,
via journal

for no other reason than light entertainment, i suppose

however, as i glossed over
the thoughts and events of
twelve-year-old me,

quiet discomfort moved in my chest

reading through my high school journal
only amplified that unease

because there, written in the pages,
was so much sorrow so similar
to the sorrow i carry today

(depression diagnosis did not come
until age twenty-two)

the predominant response i gather
in reaction to my personhood is:

“you’re so weird”

i’ve heard that reflected with laughter of a gentle kind
i’ve heard that with tones meant to imply insult

i’ve been called
a “self-downer”
(‘you’d be so pretty if it wasn’t for your face’)
“fucked up”
(‘i don’t know why anyone would want to be friends with you’)

all of this by age fourteen

all of this, from people i considered friends

was full of bullying
as much as it was full of love

i’ve been called a million warm, lovely things, too,
in case you’re shaking your head in pity

but it’s the meanness that cuts,
it’s the meanness we remember

i am not here telling you these stories
to elicit an applause for bravery and honesty

i am here because i want to change the way we communicate with one another
i am here because no one should have to feel so deeply alone and misunderstood
i am here because we all need a community in which our guards do not exist

i am here to make life a little lighter for all of us “weirdos”
(you’re beautifully built)

the older i grow, the more people i meet
who accept me in all my blatant weirdness
(learning to trust this appreciation is not easy)

all those comments and their commentators no longer need to control my life

i am weird

and that’s okay


much love,


This entry was published on October 28, 2012 at 2:04 pm. It’s filed under a serious note, emotions and stuff, honest conversation, life and living, life lessons, love love love, personal stories, photography, rambles and writing, sunday superlatives, thoughts and musings, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

6 thoughts on “sunday lessons

  1. bravo, zoe. it took me until I was 25/26 to be happy with being a little weird, a little quiet, and realize that this also meant I was: thoughtful, deep, and substantive, too. xo

  2. we’re all a little weird :)

  3. I love your beautiful face. Whoever said that was out of his mind

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